


I'll Be Dreaming of You

by peachieo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Gift Exchange, Katsuki Siblings, M/M, all in all pretty wholesome if I do say so myself, soft sleepy happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachieo/pseuds/peachieo
Summary: Mari gives Viktor the shovel talk and they get drunk together. Fluffy, wholesome, pure content.





	I'll Be Dreaming of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltandburnit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandburnit/gifts).



> This is my gift to Gina @saltandburnit for the TRFL Discord Gift Exchange! Sorry it's so late!! I'm also very weak for wholesome Katsuki sibling content, and there's definitely not enough of it, so I did something along those lines kind of... I just really like content where Viktor becomes part of the Katsuki family. So this is that. Anyway, I hope you like it!!! This is actually the first writing of mine that I've ever posted :)

It was an evening in October in one of the weeks shortly following Yuuri’s victory in the regional qualifiers when it happened. The rest of the Katsuki family had gone their separate ways for the night after dinner, and Yuuri had gone to bed early. Mari, however, remained in the family room with Viktor, who was reading and idly sipping some leftover wine, while she finished folding the towels for the next day. Viktor was absorbed in his book, a favorite of his which involved a jaded baron from the late 19th century falling in love with a dirt poor factory worker, when Mari cleared her throat, clearly to get his attention.

Torn from his focus, Viktor looked up at Mari quizzically. “So,” she began. Viktor lowered his book. “What are your intentions with Yuuri?” she asked, although with her tone it seemed more like a statement. Viktor got a creeping feeling as if he’d been put in an interrogation room.

“What do you mean?” He asked innocently. He wasn’t actively trying to _hide_ his feelings for Yuuri per se, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be so obvious that his family would become suspicious of his intentions. 

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed,” she replied, a teasing note to her voice as the left corner of her lips quirked upwards, “You two are very -- what’s the word?” she waved her hand around for a moment, “ _flirty_ ,” she decided, flopping a folded towel onto the pile. 

As Viktor studied her face while she continued to work, he noticed that the shape of her eyebrows, lips, and nose shared striking resemblance to Yuuri’s. Even the way they spoke was similar, aside from Mari’s accent being thicker than Yuuri’s. Although she learned English in school and used it while speaking with tourists in the inn, she had never lived in a place where English was the primary language, unlike Yuuri. So while Yuuri’s accent clung to the tip of his tongue, more prevalent in some words and less in others, Mari and the rest of the Katsuki family had thick accents similar to the other locals of Hasetsu. 

Viktor was quiet as he contemplated this and what to say in response to her statement. Mari, however, seemed more eager for an answer and asked innocently, “are you interested in him?”  
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Viktor replied quietly. This was the first time he had admitted it out loud. With this he felt very vulnerable, but at the same time, relieved. _He was interested in Yuuri Katsuki._ Yuuri, who swept him off his feet nearly a year ago and hadn’t left his mind since. Yuuri, with all his anxious quirks and determination and passion. Yuuri, who liked dogs and katsudon and the beach; who blushed when Viktor said his name or brushed their fingers together. Of course he was interested in Yuuri. _How could he not be?_

Mari smirked at his response, not looking up from the towels. They were silent for a few moments. “He likes you too, but don’t tell him I said that,” she said. Viktor felt a smile creeping across his face. He wasn’t stupid, he could see that Yuuri harbored at least some feelings for him. Whether he was simply attracted to Viktor physically or if he was actually interested in some sort of a romantic relationship was another question. “I guess this is the part where I tell you to never hurt him or I’ll break your kneecaps in your sleep,” she smirked. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Viktor said honestly, taking a sip of his wine.

“He’s always admired you, you know,” she said, continuing to fold towels, “Of course he’s always loved skating, but once he discovered you, that’s when he became determined. He wanted to be like you.”

Viktor was silent. He imagined a younger Yuuri, skating his programs, reading his magazine interviews, watching him on television. Yuuri had sheepishly admitted to him that he had named his childhood dog after him a while ago, and Viktor teased him about it of course, but in reality he didn’t mind. Plenty of people had looked up to him before, but none had caught his attention as Yuuri did, with his pouring light and excitement into Viktor’s previously unexceptional day-to-day life. 

It had started off with Viktor simply being intrigued by the man, he wanted to know more about him, who he was, why he did the things he did. He wanted to figure him out, wanted to know what made him tick, what he thought about, how he lived, and somewhere along the way it turned into something more. Viktor found himself falling for Yuuri more and more with every little thing he learned about him. Like when he found out the other day that Yuuri liked pickle flavored potato chips. Sure, it was disgusting, but it was strangely endearing. 

He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of Mari suddenly dropping the basket full of towels on a table, evidently done with the folding.

“Wanna see some embarrassing photos of him?” 

Viktor blinked up at her. “What?” 

“Do you want to see embarrassing photos of Yuuri from his childhood?” Mari asked again, mischief gleaming in her eyes. Viktor nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, clapping her hands together and beaming, “I’ll go get Mom’s photo albums and some more alcohol,” and she left the room in a flash.

Soon after, Mari returned, arms laden with books, two bottles of wine and another glass perched on top. She set down the items on the table in front of Viktor and flopped down next to him on the couch. “Alright,” she said with conviction, uncorking the wine and pouring a glass for herself. She took a sip and pulled the book on the top of the pile into her lap. Viktor eyed it suspiciously, and she cracked open the cover. Viktor scooted a little closer. 

The first picture was of a frazzled but happy couple holding a bundle of blankets in a hospital room, a tiny face with a tuft of dark hair on the top of his head peeking out. The next was a scowling little girl, around 8 years old, holding the same bundle. Mari turned the page and Viktor couldn’t hold back a coo at the adorable sight before him, a photo of baby Yuuri in blue overalls, tiny hands grasping a small plastic train, glassy brown eyes looking somewhere beyond the camera. “He was a cute one wasn’t he,” Mari noted, “Not sure what happened to him,” she jibed. Viktor snickered. 

They flipped through pictures of Yuuri as an infant, and then through his toddler days, both of them sipping at their drinks and making comments here and there, Mari providing stories when applicable. By the time they made their way through the album detailing Yuuri’s primary school days, they were two thirds of the way through the bottle Mari had brought out. Viktor noticed this as Mari recounted a tale of the time Yuuri tried to secretly keep a stray cat in the inn. 

“By the time mom and dad found out, the cat had already successfully made friends with every single one of the tourists staying here. And when they did find out they couldn’t even be mad at him because he pulled that dumb face that makes everyone bend to his will,” said Mari. Viktor laughed. 

“I know that face well,” he said, taking another long drink and draining his glass. He was moving to pour another one when the door to the hallway slid open, revealing a pajama clad Yuuri. 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor called, “I thought you went to bed?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Yuuri replied, rubbing his eyes and moving towards the couch where Viktor was sitting, “and I heard laughing. I was wondering what you two were getting up to.” At that moment he noticed the books on the table. He groaned. Mari snickered. 

“Why do you have to be like this Mari,” Yuuri groaned, flopping down onto the couch between them. Viktor suddenly realized he was feeling very warm and fuzzy. He may have been a little bit tipsy. 

“You were so cuuuute Yuuri,” Viktor cooed, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. He felt a little wine spill onto his leg. He felt Yuuri stiffen and then relax underneath him. Why was Yuuri so scared of him? It didn’t make any sense. Viktor wasn’t scared of Yuuri. Viktor really liked Yuuri. 

“I really like you Yuuri,” Viktor said into Yuuri’s shoulder, “You’re pretty great.” 

“You’re pretty great too,” Yuuri said, laughter hiding underneath his words. Viktor felt an arm wrap around his side, and he suddenly felt really… soft. And sleepy. “Did you have to get him drunk?” Yuuri asked Mari. Viktor felt his voice rumble through his chest underneath his cheek. Mari said something in Japanese and Yuuri made a tsk-ing sound. 

“Heyyyyy, stop speaking Japanese I can’t understand you guys,” Viktor groaned. He felt Yuuri laugh underneath him. 

“You should get to bed Viktor, it’s getting late,” Yuuri said to him, softly rubbing his shoulder. 

“What time is it?” Viktor asked.

“Almost midnight.” 

Viktor groaned. “Here I’ll help you up,” Yuuri said, winding his arm tighter around Viktor’s waist and pulling him up off the couch, bidding Mari goodnight. As they moved down the hall to Viktor’s room Yuuri didn’t take his hand off of his waist. Viktor could walk fine on his own but he leaned on Yuuri anyway. He felt a little guilty but Yuuri was very soft and warm and nice, so the guilt didn’t last long. 

When Viktor was safely deposited in his bed Yuuri made to leave but Viktor grabbed hold of his wrist. “Will you sleep with me?” he asked, trying to make his best puppy eyes. Yuuri smiled and Viktor felt his heart flutter in his chest. 

“Maybe another time,” he said, squeezing Viktor’s hand, smiling, “Goodnight Viktor,” he said, and he turned and left. 

Viktor couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but it faded soon enough after his head was buried in his pillow, thoughts of Yuuri’s adorable, adorable face fresh in his mind. He fell asleep quickly.


End file.
